


You Did What?

by StarlightHawke



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale makes him go uwu, Garden of Eden, M/M, That first time Crowley feels things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 19:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19383340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightHawke/pseuds/StarlightHawke
Summary: The Garden of Eden scene with Aziraphale from Crowley's POV.





	You Did What?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Good Omens fic, and I tend to really like to delve into the thoughts and emotions you don't get onscreen/in the books, exactly. So that's what I did. Enjoy!

The whole ordeal went rather smoothly, really. Crawly didn’t know much about humanity, but he’d expected there to be a fair bit more  _ convincing  _ than there actually was. A few bites of an apple followed by one mildly frightening lecture and bam, it was done. 

Still, he wasn’t compelled to return back to the depths.

The brightness of the sky - nay, of the  _ world - _ around him had hurt his eyes when he first slithered out of the soil, but now that he’s used to it, he finds it’s actually rather… pretty. Beautiful, even. A sky that was something other than a dirty ceiling, and the plants…  _ oh, _ the plants. So many different colors and types. One could certainly get lost in admiring the Garden for days. 

And yet, that isn’t why he’s still here.

_ “Get up there and cause trouble,”  _ Beelzebub had said to him, never bothering to give him a direct order for when to come back. A mistake, perhaps, on his part, for if Crawly was ever anything, it was the type of being to follow only those directions given and not a bit further. So until word came that he was commanded to return, he would remain on earth and investigate this… 

Hmm. How does one describe this sensation? Like a magnet, perhaps; or, more accurately, a hooked fish. 

Moving quietly under the brush, he follows the exiled humans to the gate of the Garden, pondering curiously why he felt compelled to travel that direction as well. Surely if it were the work of God, She would have cast him back into that-whence-he-came instead of forcing him out into the world, right? That simply wouldn’t make any sense. What sort of punishment would that be, sent out to enjoy the planet She’d created? It wouldn’t be. 

At least, not for him.

The man slips through the arch (well, his feet do; really, all Crawly can see right now is their ankles), a moment later followed by the woman. Adam and Eve, the first humans, made in God’s image and now banished from the Garden. Surely he should feel more accomplished by his actions? He is a  _ demon, _ after all. 

The thought slips from his mind as quickly as it comes when he realizes he’s no longer being urged to follow; rather, the tug on his consciousness is up, up, toward the sky. And so he climbs, unhindered by the silly thing that will be known as gravity, the stone cool beneath his belly and the sun bright against his eyes.

A rumble in the distance makes him wonder if that will be the case much longer.

Crawly isn’t exactly a small snake, a fact he’s fairly pleased with when he crests the top of the wall in a matter of minutes. No sooner than when his head is over the edge does he find himself blinded by something even brighter than the sun; ah, an angel is here. The Angel of the Eastern Gate, presumably. It hasn’t been that long since he tumbled into the dark and yet it feels like an eternity has passed since the last time he gazed upon wings so white.

The Angel is staring out into the horizon, hands clenched tightly in front of him with a concerned frown set deep into his face. Crawly takes a moment to shift from his serpentine form into one more familiar, following his gaze to find him watching the humans. 

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” he jokes, head cocked slightly to the side as he watches the humans climb up the first sand dune slowly, trying to keep their footing. 

It takes a second for the Angel to respond, a confused giggle preluding him asking, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

A giggle. Huh. That’s not something Crawly hears every day. Most angels don’t bother laughing, let alone like that. What was his name…? Raising an eyebrow, he shifts to glance over at the other. “I  _ said, _ ‘that went down like a lead balloon’.” 

“Oh. Yes, it did, rather.” The Angel returns to his post, which is apparently anxiously keeping an eye on the humans rather than the gate itself. The wind picks up, clouds rolling through the sky toward them.

For some reason, the quick manner in which the conversation ends rankles Crawly. No, he’s not going to let it stop there. “Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. First offense and everything.” His hair tickles his neck as it’s blown about, a rather new feeling but not one to distract him from his next point. Leaning toward the Angel as though about to share a secret, he scrunches up his face in confusion. “I can’t see what’s so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway.”

That seems to stump the Angel. Brows drawn inward, he takes a moment to think. “Well… it must be bad, uh…” There’s a pause as he looks at Crawly expectantly. 

Oh, he wants to know his name! The very concept amuses him; an angel, one of God’s Chosen, asking the name of one of the Fallen. “Crawly,” he supplies with a small smile and polite nod.   
  
“...Crawly,” the Angel finishes, not appearing convinced by his own reasoning. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have tempted them into it.” 

Crawly shrugs dismissively. “Oh, they just said ‘Get up there and make some trouble’.” 

“Well, obviously. You’re a demon!”

Finally given an outlet for his questions that doesn’t end in him getting immediately shut down (that’s all they do in Hell, after all; they don’t  _ care _ what God’s plan really is, they just want to cause as much mischief and evil as possible), Crawly takes advantage of the only angel likely to ever bother speaking to him. The conversation continues for a bit, turning to what the Great Plan could be -  _ ineffable _ , apparently - before he notices something seems to be missing. He’d been briefed on the purpose of the Angel of the Eastern Gate - oh! His name is  _ Aziraphale _ \- before coming forth, and the one thing he’d been advised to be wary of was…

“Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

Aziraphale stops, mid-sentence, eyes wide as though caught doing something  _ very _ un-Heavenlike. He attempts to brush it off, but nah, Crawly isn’t having that. After pushing the subject further, the Angel finally manages to sputter out that he gave the sword away… to Adam.

“There are vicious animals. It’s going to be cold out there. And she’s expecting already!” 

Crawly can feel the look of surprise on his face, the way his lips begin to lift into a smile. Of all the things he would have expected,  _ that _ was certainly not it. An Angel, giving a celestial weapon to the likes of a mere human? No other being he’d met - in Heaven or Hell - would consider doing such a thing. And yet here this man stands before him, wringing his hands as he quiets, wondering if he did the right thing. 

He’s not supposed to like Angels. He’s not supposed to like anyone other than perhaps a few in the upper echelons in Hell. But he can’t help it, can’t help the way his heart swells when he looks back over the desert to find Adam is indeed carrying a sword alight with fire as he tries to fend off a lion, Eve hidden behind him. 

He’s not supposed to like Angels. But no one ever said anything about  _ other _ emotions.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to suggest a scene where I do this, hit me up on twitter or tumblr under StarlingHawke! I'm always down to talk and while I'm a bit slow at writing, I'll do my best to keep up!


End file.
